


Lightning in a Bottle

by ACaseOfUnstableEmpathy



Series: constellate [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex and Michael being soft I swear, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lost Decade (Roswell New Mexico), M/M, metaphors?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29710542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACaseOfUnstableEmpathy/pseuds/ACaseOfUnstableEmpathy
Summary: It was so effortless falling in love with Michael Guerin.Young love was like a bed of smoldering coals, abounding with life and vibrantly luminous as it caught fire.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: constellate [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2183448
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Lightning in a Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!  
> A late happy 2021 to you all. It's been some time since I last posted anything. I hope you enjoy one of the few drabbles that I've been sitting on for a while!

It was so effortless falling in love with Michael Guerin. 

Young love was like a bed of smoldering coals, abounding with life and vibrantly luminous as it caught fire. It was whimsical like the dancing flames that licked at the darkened atmosphere on a pleasant evening. In the isolation of the New Mexican desert, the very concept of society faded into the background. Freed by the lack of surveillance, the indulgence of unrestrained passion existed.

Warmth seeped through entangled bodies and silky curls appear like threads of gold between the fingers of Alex Manes. His lips still tingled with traces of heat that had been sparked with each leisurely kiss. It felt right to be in Michael’s truck bed, with their forms exuberant and fueled by one another’s micro-movements. The giddiness of such tender intimacy was a gentle shock of electricity that surged to life in the core of his being. The sensation was always welcomingly unfamiliar. 

At seventeen, the way Michael touched him was painfully tender. It was the type of feeling that made one's stomach flutter with enthusiastic butterflies, their wings lightly tapping against the lining of their confinement, bringing a blossom of giddiness to life. 

During road trips to the desert, Alex would kick his feet up onto the dash (after making sure that the soles of his shoes were clean) and lean the seat back. He laced my fingers behind his head and stared at Michael as he drove, his form relaxed behind the wheel. The thick layers of white gauze that covered his left hand was a stark contrast compared to the color of the deep brown hardened plastic and steel. His right fingers occasionally fiddled with the dial to the radio, skimming through stations of static or music that made their teeth grind. 

The opening chords to _The Time of my Life_ by David Cook blared over the speakers and Alex cracked one eye open with a faint scowl. 

> **_" ' I've been waiting for my dreams, ' "_ **

Michael sang purposefully off-tune, prompting a full-bodied cringe from the boy beside him. 

> **_" ' To turn into something I could believe in. ' "_ **

"Oh my God," Alex groaned with his voice catching on the bubble of laughter that rose from the base of his throat, gently swatting at Michael with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, "Stop it." 

> _**" ' And lookin' for that magic rainbow, ' "** _

Michael casted a smirk in his direction with a smirk, pulling at the edges of his lips. 

> **_" ' On the horizon, I could see it. ' "_ **

His laughter was contagious, warm like a heated blanket being draped across Alex's shoulders and luring his lips to curl upwards to follow in a joyous chorus of hysterics. A smile always looked effortlessly beautiful on Michael Guerin's face, illuminated in the accompanying light of the sun as they drove.   
It was a look that Alex always wanted to be imprinted in the mainframes of his mind, stained like how blinding headlights leave a temporary impression of the world on his closed eyelids. 

Michael was beautiful, and falling for him was effortless; like the influence of gravity during a free-fall from a cliffside. 

Every so often, when they were high on perhaps too much weed or drunk on alcohol, a future mapped itself out before them. They would bounce ideas off of each other, akin to a child throwing a ball a wall for the rebound. It was a pipe-dream, but it offered an escape from circumstances that were handed to them.  
Of course, the ideas were just fragments of a possible outlook and nothing was ever certain on the fluctuating waves of time. The fluidity was like water slipping through fingers that reached out to grab its essence.

And then, Michael would teach him about the stars that always stared down at them from the heavens above, visible without the disturbance of light pollution.

"That one is Ursa Minor." He would point out as they were sprawled in the tailgate of his truck, intertwined like winding vines that snaked up the side of an old house. Alex followed the finger that indicated the direction of a shining series of illuminated dots amongst the darkened background of the night. It was difficult to connect the lines to create the specified shape, and he didn't quite understand how anyone could distinguish a shape within the accumulation and vagueness of the sky. But he did know one thing about it, "The Little Dipper, right?"

"Very good," a kiss was pressed to his forehead as a reward, a beaming smile crossing his features. "Where did you learn that one?"

Alex shrugged. "It's literally the most basic constellation, but I've just kind of known about it." Intrigue filled those honey brown eyes that were brimming with so much fascination that he swore he would gladly drown in.

Michael slipped the blunt free from behind his ear and handed it to Alex, who took it and inhaled deeply. The strong musty scent assaulted his nostrils from the intake alone. The complex arrangements of his thought process scattered like a frightened flock of seagulls, dispersing into the great blue. His consciousness rose to a pleasant state of detachment, the fog of gentle lucidity rolling in like the settling of haze upon a gloomy harbor. With a long exhale, he pushed the resulting air from his system. A slight cough rattled his sore ribs, the pain numbed by the euphoria, mingling into a soft chuckle. The sound was loose and relaxed, natural but induced by the lightness that his head found itself in.

"Maybe we'll find a star," Alex muttered as he passed the rolled stick back to Michael.  "Name it something fancy for the two of us. While we're at it, we could make a fucking movie out of it, like _The Notebook_ or something."

"Babe," fingers carded through his hair, Michael amused by the high that Manes had all but reached once again. " _The Notebook_ was based off of a book, not a cluster of stars." 

"Oh, whatever." Alex's words were a thoughtless jumble of statements and suggestions, all somehow holding a sense of coherence in his uplifted mind as they cascaded easily off his tongue. He pecked a kiss to Michael's nose before turning his gaze back to the stars again, " ' _Kalon_. ' " 

"Hm?" Guerin hummed, attention honed in on the boy beside him.

"It's a Greek word that means ' _beautiful_ , ' or ' _the ideal good_ '. Sounded fitting." 

A prickle laughter soon gained traction, oozing forth from Michael's mouth.  _ That  _ sound, so melodic and beautiful like the strum of a perfectly-tuned guitar - it made Alex's heart feel like an alit sparkler, buzzing and exuberant with a sense of existence. It made his soul flutter like the flawless harmonization of specific music verses that blended so smoothly that it could make the sternest of individuals cry. 

"You are something else, Alex Manes." Michael joyfully mused, his nose gracing his cheek as he turned onto his side to face him better. "Truly," he kissed Alex's temple. "Something else otherworldly."  


"I thought you were going to say, 'angelic' and I was just about  ready to escape the confines of this tailgate."

A pout crossed Guerin's features, a tease residing in those brown eyes. "Nah. If you were an angel, then you'd be the most 'punk-ed' out angel I've ever met." He gently flicked Alex's small silver septum ring with a finger. 

Michael Guerin was the electricity in a bottle, alive with flashes of energy and vibrancy underneath the New Mexico night sky.  


This love was sweet on the tongue like candied sugar on the rim of a martini glass, something that you never wanted to end or run out of. 

It's something precious that should never be wasted or taken for granted like Tantalum, the rarest stable metal on earth. 

In the end, Alex figured that it was more like Francium, the rarest metal on earth but the most unstable, consisting of a lifespan of only 22 minutes. 

All too fleeting... and exceedingly brief. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave Kuddos and reviews, I honestly really appreciate reviews and any words of feedback you can leave me!


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